


Beautiful Child

by dreamerbee



Category: Doctor Who RPF
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-19
Updated: 2012-06-19
Packaged: 2017-11-08 02:04:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,372
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/437920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreamerbee/pseuds/dreamerbee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Before Tate and Tennant, they were just David and Catherine. </p>
<p>bb!Tatennant fic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Beautiful Child

_ I'm not a child anymore  _   
_ I'm tall enough  _   
_To reach for the stars _

She had failed.

Again.

Inhaling deeply, Catherine watched as her breath spiralled in front of her, in the form of little puffs of smoke in the chilly November air. Leaning against the gate walls of the brand new building that loomed behind her, she let her mind wander.

She had no idea why she even kept trying. It was already the third time she had failed. Maybe she should try going to another school (no, not really; she could still remember the huge fiasco the last one was); maybe she should give up on acting altogether. Maybe she wasn’t cut out for the job.

She wondered what her mum would say if she suddenly came out of the blue asking to work with her in the flower shop. The mental image made her giggle; Josephine would never accept this. She had always been Catherine’s greatest supporter and biggest fan. 

Though Catherine just wasn’t sure about the whole “let’s go to Scotland” thing her mum was pulling off in a desperate attempt to cheer her up. It didn’t seem to be doing her much good. She had sulked around despite her mum’s best efforts to help her enjoy herself. After an exhausting day exploring the city of Glasgow, Josephine asked for a couple of hours alone to “go shopping” (probably to get her something; Mum was really quite predictable sometimes)  and since then she had wandered around the streets, ending up at the gates of what looked like the Academy of Music and Drama. At least according to the signs. And there she stood, embracing her sadness while eyeing with envy all those students who were already pursuing the career path she could only dream with. 

“Hallo! Are you a new student here? Are you lost?”

She jerked in place and turned to face the source of the voice she’d just heard. Blinking, she stared at the boy who stood by her side; he looked a couple of years younger than she, all long-ish brown hair, freckles and a big goofy smile.

“Not really.” She muttered, “I’m just a tourist.”

He blinked, his smile never faltering.

“You’re ‘just a tourist’ and you’re standing there, brooding and staring at our school. Nice. You must’ve been having a really fun trip.”

She once again turned to him and eyed him up and down, trying as hard as she could to conceal her amazement. So this... this _boy_ was actually a college student?

Really?

“So you’re a student here.” It was a statement, not a question. “What’re you majoring at?”

“Oh, I’m a drama student. I’ll graduate in a year or so, actually.” Great, just what she needed. A precocious little brat. “How about you? I’m David, by the way. David McDonald.”

“Catherine Ford. And just so you know, I’m a vegetarian.”

She couldn’t believe she had just cracked a joke at his last name. It was a cheap shot and she knew it; it wasn’t usual for her to go around being mean to random people, but she was feeling tired, sad and bitter. 

To her amazement, instead of being offended he simply laughed at the silly joke she had just made at his expense. And she thought maybe she didn’t dislike him as much as she thought she did.

He kept smiling that broad, boyish grin.

“So, Catherine Ford, vegetarian, there’s a pretty good movie at the Film Theatre down the street. What do you say? Do you want to hang out?”

“Well...” She hesitated for a couple of seconds. It wasn’t like her to go and become best friends with complete strangers. She didn’t know him at all, but still... “Sure. Sure, why not. I could use someone to hang out with right now, I guess.”

He smirked as she asked for a Coke once they were sitting inside an admittedly quite shabby but still pretty warm pub, waiting for the next movie session.

“You should loosen up a little, Miss Ford.”

“No, thanks. I don’t drink. Don’t smoke or do drugs either. You can laugh if you want to, most people do. I don’t mind.”

 “Nah. Why would I laugh at you? I agree with you when it comes to smoke and drugs, actually. But I don’t think a few drinks would do you any harm, y’know? C’mon. Just one beer?”

“As I said, no thanks. I’ll stick to my Coke.”

“Suit yourself, then.” He slowly drank his beer once their orders arrived, watching her as she sipped her Coke. “So, Catherine Ford. Are you enjoying your trip to Scotland?”

“Not really.” She sighed, “But then again, I haven’t enjoyed many things these days.”

“How so?”

She didn’t answer. He could’ve been nothing but kind to her up ‘til now, but this didn’t mean she was ready to trust him completely. Instead she turned to him and forced a smile.

“We’ve been talking about me all the time. How about you, Mr. McDonald?”

He waved his hand in a dismissive gesture.

“I’m not interesting, really. Just your plain awkward drama student.”

“Look at that.” This time she genuinely smiled – which was really unusual in her current situation – broadly at him, “A drama student without an ego. Those are hard to come along.”

He giggled.

“Met many drama students, did you?”

“Let’s just say I had my fair share of them.”

“You’re too mysterious for your own good, Catherine Ford.”

“Ain’t I just.” She pulled some bills from her coat’s pocket and handed them to him, “C’mon, David McDonald. We’ll be late for our movie.”

It was an old silent movie, a comedy, and both left the theatre dizzy with laughter; in truth, both were making the other laugh more than the movie itself. They strolled down the street talking animatedly, mocking the actors, re-enacting their favourite bits.

He stopped at the front of a small building, averting his eyes as she watched him curiously.

“Where are we, Mr. McDonald?”

“This... This is my place, Catherine.”

“Oh?”

“My roommate has classes today and won’t be coming home ‘till later, but I thought... If maybe you—you wanted to, maybe you could...”

She discreetly backed off a couple of steps, shaking her head ever so slightly.

“I’m sorry, David... My mum’s probably waiting for me at the hotel; I don’t think I should...”

“No, you’re right, of course. And if you don’t want to come, I would never dream to force you.” Once again he pulled a happy face, trying to conceal his disappointment. He could’ve fooled anyone – he was an actor, after all, and a good one by the looks of it – but Catherine knew how to spot good acting, “Well. It was really nice meeting you, Catherine Ford. Thank you for the movie and the lovely evening, I--”

“David, wait.”

He stopped talking, blinking and politely waiting for her to speak.

“I...” She sighed and nervously started curling her hair with her finger “It’s fine, I’ll go up with you. What harm can it do, eh?”

She winked and he promptly smirked in return. Holding the building’s main door to her, he beckoned for her to go in.

He nervously ran a hand over his hair, messing it up, as he did a wide gesture showing the living room.

“Not much, but... Y’know. Student life, full of hardships. Still, we do have a couch... Please, make yourself comfortable, ok?”

“Hmm.”

“I guess I must have a tape with one of my stage performances here somewhere... Do you want to see it? Just, y’know, to tell me what you think, I’d love it if you wanted to watch it...”

“Hmm.”

“We could, I, I don’t know, maybe order something... What do you think? Please don’t answer with a meaningless noise.” She smiled, taking her coat off.

“Sounds great. Thank you, David.”

They sat at the small couch at his living room, taking off their shoes and chit-chatting; David leaned to turn on the small radio that rested on a small table by the couch and the room was filled with static and Air Supply.

As the song finished, another soon followed.

“Ooh, look! Bonnie Tyler.” David smiled at her and Catherine started humming the first notes of the song.

“ _Turn around, bright eyes_ ”, he sang along with the radio, in a mocking voice and slightly off-key.

“ _Every now and then I fall apart_ ”, she sang back.

“You have a beautiful voice, Catherine.” 

“You barely know me and you’re already telling me lies? You’re not making a good impression, mister.”

“It’s true, though. Your voice is beautiful...” He hesitated before muttering, “You... you are beautiful.” 

Before she could reply, he was kissing her. 

And then she was kissing him back, a long, passionate kiss; before they could register what exactly was happening, both were divesting each other of their clothing.

As he gently pushed her on his bed, she softly broke the kiss.

“Condom, David.”

“I...” He blushed deeply, “I... I don’t have any. Do you want to stop?”

She sighed.

“Tell me you don’t have AIDS.”

“Now you’re offending me.”

“Then just promise you’ll pull it out. Please?”

He nodded and she relented, even though she knew he wouldn’t be able to control himself, despite his promise.

He was young and eager and nervous, and though she knew – _hoped_ \- _knew_ he had had others prior to her, she just couldn’t tell how much experience he had on this field. She hadn’t had much neither if she had to be completely honest. Their mutual exploration felt slightly clumsy and their touches were hesitant; Catherine had to admit the kissing was great, but still his hands roamed awkwardly over her body, as if he was avid to take in her whole figure and yet unsure of what he was doing. 

Hovering over her, he muttered, anxiously,

“We don’t have to do it if you don’t want to, Catherine...”

Putting up a show and exuding a confidence she wasn’t feeling, she pulled him down to her.

“But I do, David. I do.”

He pushed carefully until he was buried in her, all the way to the hilt. He started moving, his rhythm broken and lacking finesse, not that she could say she was much better. She could feel her stomach clench in nervousness; she couldn’t do more than stand still and pet him tentatively as he pumped.

And yet with all the nervousness and discomfort that came along, she still needed this. Needed the physical reassurance; it was soothing somehow. The fact he found her attractive, that he found her worthy of his time and attention, made her feel good about herself after all the failure she had to take in. She didn’t care that they were strangers, that he could be a liar who was just using her because she looked like an easy lay. Nested in his arms she was using him as much as he might be using her. 

He wouldn’t last much longer if the noises he was making were anything to go by. As he leaned to kiss her, brushing his chest over her nipples in the process, she hummed her appreciation, clenching her muscles around him as a reward of some sort; that made him stop abruptly.

“Fuck.”

“David? What’s the matter?”

“I’m sorry, Catherine--” He closed his eyes, his expression pained as sweat dripped from his forehead “But- if I move now, I’ll come. I can’t... I can’t--”

“It’s all right, David.” She caressed his face, reassuring “It’s fine. Just let it go, ok?”

And when he came hard inside her, it was all but unexpected.

“Just so you know,” She muttered from her side of the bed, without turning to face him, “I don’t usually go around shagging random people I’ve just met.”

“I know.” He muttered sheepishly, staring so intently at the ceiling as if it was an accurate replica of the Sistine Chapel. “In my defence, neither do I.”

She giggled and turned at last, thought he didn’t avert his eyes from the ceiling.

“Oh, do be serious.  You must woo all the ladies over at the Royal Academy, dashing guy as yourself.”

He cleaned his throat, clearly embarrassed.

“Not really, no.”

“David, c’mon.”

“I’m dead serious, you know. I’m... Not that good with girls. Never was.”

“You don’t need to lie to spare me from feeling jealous, I swear.”

“I’m not lying.”

“But how come you’re not popular with the girls? I mean—you’re so handsome, I--”

He laughed at that, though his laughter sounded kind of bitter.

“Me, handsome? Skinny, freckly, gangly, awkward me? You’re the one who’s lying now, Cath.”

She propped herself up on an elbow, eyeing him with seriousness.

“I’m being honest here, thou. You may be no Prince Andrew, but you’re very becoming. In, y’know, your very own ‘skinny, freckly, gangly’ way.”

She leaned to kiss the tip of his nose and he smirked.

“Andrew? Really?”

She blushed.

“Oh, do shut up.”

Both giggled as he pulled her and they fell together, embracing each other.

“Do you really need to go now? We could still watch that tape, maybe order that take-out...”

He leaned against the building’s entrance, his eyes silently pleading for her to stay; she merely shook her head.

“I’m sorry. I really, really must go. My mum’s probably going insane waiting for me. But thank you, David. Thank you for everything.”

“Catherine?”

“Yes?”

“If it’s ok with you... Could I please have your address? I... I’d love to write to you.”

She took his hand in hers, casting him a fond glance.

“Oh, Dave. I don’t think either of us needs this right now. Long-distance relationships are way too complicated.”

“Catherine...”

“But I promise we’ll meet again. Tell you what; let me tell you a secret.” She leaned and whispered in his ear, “I’m an actress too.”

Straightening herself and buttoning her jacket, she flashed him her brightest grin.

“And I’ll be looking forward to work with you, David McDonald.”

With one last kiss she turned and walked away. He lingered and kept watching the spot she last stood in long after she disappeared among the crowd.

“Me too, Catherine Ford. Me too.”

  


_end._


End file.
